You always hear people talk about those days they'll never forget that mark our history: The day Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his famous "I Have a Dream" speech or the day he was assassinated. The assassinations of former presidents Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley or Kennedy. The day Neil Armstrong walked on the moon. When women were granted the right to vote or the day the Civil Rights Movement passed. How about when America inaugurated its first African-American president?

You remember exactly where you were, what you were doing, who you were with, and what you were wearing. And if you weren't around, your parents, grandparents and the generations before them have all shared their story enough that you know where they were, too.

For me, I'll never forget being a senior in high school on that Tuesday 11 years ago. We heard about the first plane crashing right as the senior class was shuffling out to take our senior class photo. Our photo haunts me to this day. We are smiling, laughing and giving bunny ears to each other, naive to what was happening hundreds of miles away, or the impact it would have on us. It wasn't until we came inside that we heard about the second plane, and then the subsequent crashes at the Pentagon, and into a field.

I'll also never forget the day we went to war with Iraq. I was in San Diego on Spring Break with my girlfriends and we watched it on the news. I remember because my boyfriend (now husband), who was in the Army, was over in Europe, his fate unknown.

It's overwhelming at times to think about how privileged we are as a nation. No matter what your political stance or what you believe, no one can deny that we live in the greatest country on Earth. We should all count our blessings every day for that.

Today, I think of all those who have have lived, loved and lost for our country and our freedoms, and I pray for those who lost anyone on this day 11 years ago.